"Which is the greater mystery, that man is artistically creative or that in his creativity he may empty himself and still remain artistic?" - Harold Best
Chapter six of Michael Card's Scribbling in the Sand is titled "A New Song to Christ." In it, he paints glowing images of the beautiful starry night sky he often admires from outside his home in Tennessee, an experience which bleeds into many chapters of his book and his life. He speaks of the southern sky, home to the planets and the sun and moon, the signs of the zodiac and other constellations, and additional wonders like nebulae and star clusters. In the northern sky, a considerably duller set of constellations, the circumpolar constellations, revolve around a dim green star: Polaris, or the North Star.
He says the North Star is difficult to spot the first time, and people are often surprised at its comparative insignificance, saying, "I thought it would be brighter." And yet, the North Star is the one which sailors and astronauts use to find their way when they are lost because of its unchanging location at the tip of the northern axis. Who knew?
In response, Card presents the following:
People are sometimes described as stars. We look up to them, at their apparent brilliance, and feel ourselves small and insignificant in comparison. They move across the sky of life, luminaries, attracting most of the attention and admiration. Like the moon they constantly change their faces to suit the season. Like the sun they often burn hot. Like meteors they usually burn up quickly.
If you or I have any choice in the matter (and I am convinced that we do), I would like to campaign for the idea of our becoming North Star people. Sure, we might not seem as bright or interesting as some. Seldom will people point their telescopes at us. And when they do they will no doubt respond, "Oh, I thought she was brighter than that."
But as North Star people we can serve a deeper purpose. When people need us, we can be there for them, pointing the Way. While the world is spinning at a dizzying pace, we can remain grounded to the same spot, less dazzling but unmovable. (71-2)
Somehow, astrology never made it onto my list of peculiar interests, but I love this illustration. In a society where we are constantly urged to stand out, to be the best of the best and to market ourselves as such -- to the point where we are told this is the ONLY way we will succeed -- what would it mean to fulfill God's purposes for us by receding from the spotlight? As an artist, how could I possibly market myself effectively without focusing on myself and trying to stand out in a crowd? And how do I embrace the way God made me -- outgoing, loud-mouthed, fearless, quirky, artistic -- without making it a source of pride and wanting to be in the spotlight rather than reflect it back at Him?
"Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Philippians 2:3-11 (ESV)
Chapter six of Michael Card's Scribbling in the Sand is titled "A New Song to Christ." In it, he paints glowing images of the beautiful starry night sky he often admires from outside his home in Tennessee, an experience which bleeds into many chapters of his book and his life. He speaks of the southern sky, home to the planets and the sun and moon, the signs of the zodiac and other constellations, and additional wonders like nebulae and star clusters. In the northern sky, a considerably duller set of constellations, the circumpolar constellations, revolve around a dim green star: Polaris, or the North Star.
He says the North Star is difficult to spot the first time, and people are often surprised at its comparative insignificance, saying, "I thought it would be brighter." And yet, the North Star is the one which sailors and astronauts use to find their way when they are lost because of its unchanging location at the tip of the northern axis. Who knew?
In response, Card presents the following:
People are sometimes described as stars. We look up to them, at their apparent brilliance, and feel ourselves small and insignificant in comparison. They move across the sky of life, luminaries, attracting most of the attention and admiration. Like the moon they constantly change their faces to suit the season. Like the sun they often burn hot. Like meteors they usually burn up quickly.
If you or I have any choice in the matter (and I am convinced that we do), I would like to campaign for the idea of our becoming North Star people. Sure, we might not seem as bright or interesting as some. Seldom will people point their telescopes at us. And when they do they will no doubt respond, "Oh, I thought she was brighter than that."
But as North Star people we can serve a deeper purpose. When people need us, we can be there for them, pointing the Way. While the world is spinning at a dizzying pace, we can remain grounded to the same spot, less dazzling but unmovable. (71-2)
Somehow, astrology never made it onto my list of peculiar interests, but I love this illustration. In a society where we are constantly urged to stand out, to be the best of the best and to market ourselves as such -- to the point where we are told this is the ONLY way we will succeed -- what would it mean to fulfill God's purposes for us by receding from the spotlight? As an artist, how could I possibly market myself effectively without focusing on myself and trying to stand out in a crowd? And how do I embrace the way God made me -- outgoing, loud-mouthed, fearless, quirky, artistic -- without making it a source of pride and wanting to be in the spotlight rather than reflect it back at Him?
"Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." Philippians 2:3-11 (ESV)
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